


Just Temporary

by lolahardy



Series: From Dark to Light [25]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Attempted Sexual Assault, M/M, Power Imbalance, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 19:13:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3179963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolahardy/pseuds/lolahardy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The job was only supposed to be for a "little while". </p>
<p>It wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Temporary

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-ed by my love Leesha!

  
It was only supposed to be a temporary job.

It’s what Arthur told himself with every passing day, that turned into weeks.

Arthur had applied and didn’t think he would get the job at the dance club, but when he did, he braced himself for the worse - and it was the worse.

Arthur trudged through the first few weeks, dancing, then being groped, hit on, propositioned constantly, plied with drinks, though he turned them down constantly, and having a cut of whatever he made taken by the club.

He dealt with new found aches starting at his feet, then his knees, then his back and with the end of every week he told himself just for a month.

When the month came and went and Arthur was still there, he said just another month.

Another month gradually turned into “just until the end of the year.”

After the first year passed, Arthur stopped telling himself when he would quit. He knew he was trapped now, making enough on good nights to keep himself ahead of the rat race and on bad nights, enough to pay his bills. He learned to keep himself at a distance from everyone: to put up a wall, to smile politely, to brush off comments like “suck my dick” with a laugh though inside he screamed and raged. He learned that whatever life he had once, with the few people he did know, went to the wayside. Most of his days were spent sleeping, or trying to recover from the night before. He learned his body was his paycheck so he took care of it, tended to it, worked out and watched his diet. He learned to be tired and in pain constantly.

It had been that way for so long that when Eames came into his life, Arthur had to learn how to live again.

As well as a few new things too.

Of course by then, he was so jaded, so tired of men who promised lots of things but it was always just for the sake of getting laid  - so Arthur had his guard up and was not swayed by the charming, rich man.

Arthur had, had his share of wealthy men who came to him: CEOs, attorneys, professors, aspiring actors, directors all who promised many things and offered Arthur lots of money in exchange for something sexual. It was always in exchange for something.

When he first started, he nearly believed the first rich man who called him beautiful, who told him he was graceful and above this. He let the first rich man touch him while he dance. He accepted the first rich man’s gifts and his compliments.

But that’s why he was the first and therefore only.

He knew it was all bullshit when the man started offering more money, as he pushed Arthur down on his knees.

“Come on, baby. For me?”

The disgust Arthur felt made him smack his hand away as he got up and walked away, hearing the rich man plead after him. He saw the rich man the next night, chasing around some other dancer. Arthur could lie to world, but he couldn’t to himself. As he sat in the back room for his break, he felt hurt and used - lied to. The rich man had said such sweet things to him, had been so nice and for a moment, Arthur thought something might come of it.

But that would be the last time. He swore it to himself.

It was a promise he kept for years afterwards, smiling nicely, being polite, keeping a fair distance, always. He kept his regulars just as regulars and didn’t bother to learn much more than their last name to address them properly. Any time they began with the promises of more, Arthur usually sent them on their way. He was called frigid and cold, then a cocktease for not coming through on his dance - though Arthur would always tell them he was not a whore, he wasn’t promising anything, he was just dancing.

The first time he was assaulted on the job, he had been held down by some closeted frat boy douchebag and Arthur fought, he struggled and yelled until the frat boy covered his mouth. Luckily, he had yelled loudly enough that security came and pulled the guy off. Arthur couldn’t go to work for a few days - mainly from being shaken and scared but also because the frat boy had left ugly red welts on his arms and bruises around his jaw from where he gripped his face to silence him. Arthur thought of quitting then, and as he iced his arms and face, he thought this should be it.

It wasn’t.

When Arthur was healed enough, he went right back to work.

He hated the job. He hated dancing, he hated being felt up by strangers, he hated having to rub his ass on some guy’s dick in the champagne room, he hated spreading his legs on stage to entice men to throw money at him. He hated all of it. But he kept doing it. He kept going until Eames found him.

When Eames found him and waited for him and offered him everything, Arthur resisted still. Twinges of the rich man echoed in Arthur’s mind but Eames wasn’t the rich man. Eames cared for him and showed it to him when he could. He made no promises, he offered only one gift while Arthur danced, he only touched Arthur when Arthur gave permission.

When Arthur began staying more and more nights over Eames’ apartment, Eames never mentioned it, never asked him to officially move in. He just made room in his drawers, in his closet, in his bedroom, his bathroom for Arthur’s things that gradually showed up. Arthur wasn’t even aware of having keys until they came home from a movie once and Eames had forgotten his set his of keys and he asked Arthur to open the door.

“How, I don’t have your keys.”

“Yes, you do. Check.”

Arthur dug out his own key ring with his apartment keys on it, a single keychain he got a long time ago of a die from when one of his friends went to Vegas and an unfamiliar set of keys.

“When did these show up?”

Eames just shrugged, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

        While it took much longer than Arthur anticipated for him to quit, when he did, he never looked back again.


End file.
